Dramione drabbles and ficlets
by LynstHolin
Summary: Draco/Hermione drabbles and ficlets go here
1. Chapter 1

"Wha-what are you doing here?" Hermione asked nervously. She certainly wasn't expecting to be visited by _Draco Malfoy_ over the summer. "M-my parents aren't home. You can't come in. This is a bad time."

Draco smirked and pushed the door open wider. "Oh, I think that this is the perfect time."

"I-I don't care for you at all, Malfoy."

"Just give me a minute. Just let me stand by your fire."

"My _what_?"

Draco didn't answer; he pulled her close, ignoring her protests. "Stop acting so crazy," he murmured when she struggled. And, really, she didn't _want _to struggle; it was just what she thought she should do. His hands closed around her wrists and pinned them over her head.

Hermione was on fire, and she wanted to burn.


	2. Chapter 2

The last thing Hermione expected to see at her bachelorette party was Draco Malfoy's bare arse right in her face. Her face flushed when he turned his head to smirk at her. "Like what you see, Granger?" Now Hermione understood why her friends were laughing so hard when they told her that they had bought her a couch dance.

Malfoy turned around and straddled her on the couch. A nearly-naked Malfoy inches away from her… His eyes went to her chest and she crossed her arms to cover her body's reaction to his closeness. "I was just trying to read your tee shirt," he drawled. " 'The Future Mrs. Weasley'. Really? You couldn't do any better than that? Well, I'll give you something to think about on your wedding night." Malfoy shoved her down so she was laying flat on her back. He put a hand on each side of her head and pushed one knee between hers, making her skirt fall to the tops of her thighs. "This will be twenty minutes you never forget."


	3. Chapter 3

My readers on deviantART are voting on which of these should be made into a full-length fic.

...

Dairy Queen

This one is AU

Draco pulled his Jaguar into the pot-holed parking lot. It was an old Dairy Queen, too small to have an area for the customers inside, but he wouldn't mind sitting out under one of the red and white umbrellas on such a balmy day. When he walked up to the order window, the girl's eyes widened. Her thick hair was piled up on top of her head, and she wore an unflattering visor, but she was still cute; Draco had a thing for brown eyes. He put in an order for a Peanut Buster Parfait and watched her while she made it. The stretchy uniform pants hugged her bottom nicely. When she handed him the parfait, he let his fingers slide across hers. "You're too pretty for this job," he said, giving his most charming smile. The look she gave him was colder than a Mint Oreo Blizzard.

...

Cruciatus cure

The Healer looked doubtful as she escorted Hermione into the Janus Thickey Ward. "I would love to think that there is actually a cure for those who have been permanently incapacitated by the Cruciatus Curse. I really would. But some of the wizarding world's greatest minds have been working on this problem for decades. I apologize for any offense, but... you're just a girl."

Hermione had dressed conservatively in a brown suit and sensible shoes, her hair pulled back as neatly as possible, but she still looked her age-just nineteen. "Give me a chance, please. It couldn't do any harm, even if it doesn't work."

The Healer sighed. "All right. Just keep your distance from this one." She took a key from her smock and unlocked a heavy oak door.

"It's not usual for patients to have private rooms, is it?" Hermione ventured.

"No. But this one..."

The door creaked open, revealing a padded room. A man in a straight jacket huddled in one corner, his face pressed against his knees. "Hello," Hermione said softly; "Don't be frightened." Oh, the poor, poor thing! He lifted his head just enough to reveal the glimmer of his eyes through the tangled hair that covered his face. "What's his name?" she asked the Healer.

"I believe you went to school with him. It's the Malfoy boy."

...

Obnoxious Mary Sue date

Hermione was doing her best to ignore Malfoy, but the high, squeaky, ceaselessly prattling voice of his date made it very hard for her to concentrate on the treatise on advanced alchemy that she had just purchased from Flourish and Blott's. Merlin, didn't the twit know that people came to Terwilliger's Tea Shop for the peaceful ambience? She was American, but that didn't excuse her complete disregard for everyone else in the place.

"I was sooooo popular back in school. I was head cheerleader for the varsity Blast-Ball squad, and a really great Seeker, and Home Coming Queen! And my grade point average was always 4.0." There was a short pause as she bit into a scone. "I can eat as many of these as I want. I have an amazing metabolism. I couldn't gain weight if I tried! So, after we're married, you don't have to worry that I'll turn into a fatty!"

Hermione sneaked a look at Malfoy; he had a glazed, vacant look on his face.

"I mean, it's kind of old-fashioned, an arranged marriage, but my parents really wanted me to get with a Pure-Blood from the old country, so to speak!" The annoying creature giggled, making her sleek blonde ponytail bounce. "Your friends and family, they're going to love me! Everybody does!"

Malfoy stood up abruptly. "I need to... something." He headed for the back of the shop with a haunted look on his face.

"Hurry back, honey! I have to tell you about the _amazing _spell I invented that can end world hunger!" The girl sat at the table, bobbing her head like a parakeet as she looked all around the room. Her overly-bright eyes fell on the cover of Hermione's reading material. "Ooh, alchemy! I'm really good at that! I can turn lead into gold!"

Hermione banged her book down on the table and gave the spray-tanned fool the evil eye. "No, you can't. No one ever has, and no one ever will. It's not possible."

"You're mistaken. I must just be _far _more advanced than you." Oh, sweet Isis, _no_. The girl was standing up. She walked to Hermione's table and _ripped the book out of her hands_.

It was the first shot fired in the war.

...

Escape

Hermione could hear someone crashing through the woods. It couldn't be Snatchers making that much racket. Quietly, she tiptoed outside, not wanting to wake the boys. They would just get all chivalrous and make her stay inside while they went charging about.

She followed the sound of harsh breathing, confident that her wards would keep her hidden if it turned out to be someone-or something-hostile. Her nostrils flared at a coppery smell in the air-blood. Was it a wounded animal? She lit the tip of her wand dimly.

Hermione's heart leapt in her chest. Merlin, she was not expecting to see a blood-drenched Draco Malfoy slumped against a tree, clutching his stomach. His hand could not staunch the flow. Hermione knew that, if he was not helped soon, he was going to die. But if she brought him into the tent, how would Harry and Ron react?

She released the wards in a very small area. Malfoy looked up at her, his face greenish and covered in sweat. "Please don't make me go back," he said faintly.

Hermione had to make a very important decision very quickly. "I know a place I can take you to," she murmured as she used a Leviocorpus to gently lift his battered body into the air. The wards were sealed behind her; the boys would be safe while she was gone.

...

Homeless

Most people didn't consider volunteering at a homeless shelter to be family bonding time, but the Grangers weren't just any family. Hermione's mother had always stressed the importance of serving the less fortunate, and Rosalie Granger practiced what she preached. Hermione had just finished up distributing shoes and socks when she saw a long shadow slip past them silently. A first timer, most likely-some of them were shy. "Could I help you, sir?" Rosalie asked politely.

The man turned. He was quite young, no older than Hermione, but he had the thousand-yard stare of a decades-older man. He was dressed in clothes that were of good quality, but shabby and dirty. He must have recognized Hermione, but he gave absolutely no reaction; the gray eyes stayed leaden, giving nothing away.

Hermione couldn't stop herself from saying his name. He merely turned away and went through the door that lead to the dining area, grabbing a tray and heading for the meal line.

Malfoy.

...

Potions accident

Stupid Crabbe. Stupid, _stupid _Crabbe.

It had taken a lot of work and planning to steal the Veritaserum from Snape's stores. Draco had even managed to yank some ginger hairs from Ginny Weasley's head to leave as 'evidence'. The theft was perfectly executed. And then Crabbe, the big moron, had been tossing the vial from hand to hand. The cork came loose, and all of the potion had come flying out, splashing Draco in the face. Of course, some of it had landed in his mouth. He had hustled out of the Slytherin common room before anyone got the idea to take advantage of it, slapping on his Prefect badge on so people would assume he was patrolling the halls.

He headed out of the dungeons, up toward the Great Hall, figuring it would be abandoned at this time of day. He turned a corner, and there was Granger, also wearing a Prefect badge. She looked at him warily, but he kept walking, not trusting himself to speak. "Are you feeling all right, Malfoy?" she called out after him. "You're not acting yourself."

He gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to blurt things out. Bloody hell, why did she have to be concerned about _him, _of all people.? And why did she have to follow him? "I swallowed Veritaserum," he said. "I'm having trouble sleeping because the Dark Lord is spending a lot of time at my home, and I'm afraid for my parents, and I know I'm supposed to hate Dumbledore, but I actually like him, and I don't want him to be killed, and I'm tired of lying to everyone and myself about-about everything, and I hate all the people that are supposed to be my friends, and I don't like you much, either, but I can't seem to _shut up_." He paused, taking in a deep breath. "You're prettier than you used to be, though."

Hermione was gaping at him. "Is-is that all?"

Draco walked faster, but she just matched his pace by taking twice as many steps. "Mrs. Norris scratched my leg, and it's a bit infected. I'm afraid the giant squid is going to put a tentacle through my dorm room window, grab me while I'm sleeping, and eat me. I don't want to be crazy like my aunt Trixie. I have spots on my back. I have nightmares about flobberworms. Merlin, why can't I stop talking?"

The Gryffindor had an annoyingly amused expression on her face. "Anything else?"

"I haven't kissed a girl yet." Where did that come from? "I hate you because now you're making me talk on purpose. But I've thought about kissing you. Oh-" Draco let out a frustrated scream and took off running, nearly plowing over Filch.

"Anything else?" he heard; it echoed down the hall after him, followed by laughter.


	4. Chapter 4

"You are _what_?" Lucius' eyes had gone from their usual silvery color to charcoal gray, and a deep crease appeared between his eyebrows.

"You heard me, Father," Draco said. His mouth wobbled, but he sat up straight, chin raised defiantly.

Slamming a fist down on the table before him, Lucius snarled, "Isn't it enough that you got that- that Muggle-born pregnant and then eloped with her? How much more must I take of your nonsense?" The other patrons in the Leaky Cauldron stared, but, these days, Malfoys were stared at any time they dared show their faces in public.

"I'm doing what I must for the sake of our child's future, Father. You know how many people there are out there that hate our family. Now, I must go. I'm meeting Hermione at the Ministry." Draco stood up and pulled his cloak on. He touched his father on the shoulder in farewell, feeling sorrow at how broken the man still was. The one moment of rage seemed to have drained Lucius, leaving him hollow-eyed and shrunken-looking. "I will come see you and mother soon."

Hermione was waiting in the Ministry's Atrium, wearing a crocheted cloche over her unruly hair. She broke into a grin when she saw her husband. Hand in hand, like the newlyweds that they were, they made their way to the Department of Vital Records. The elderly woman behind the counter smiled, showing her carved ivory dentures. "I hear congratulations are in order for you two."

"Yes, we've just got back from our honeymoon," Hermione said. "I need a change of name form."

"Here you go, dear." The clerk laid a sheet of paper next to the ink and quill that sat on the counter.

Draco picked up the quill, dipped it in the ink and, in the space labeled 'Print you new full name here,' he neatly wrote 'Draco Granger'.


	5. Chapter 5

This is a rewrite- the first version didn't seem quite right. Prompt: Because of you

...

Because of you, I am not the top student at Hogwarts, as my father expects me to be. You don't know how angry it makes him, a Malfoy bested by a Muggle-Born. I don't like going home any more. Because of you.

You humiliated me in front of my friends when you hit me. By brewing Polyjuice potion, you enabled your two friends to trick me into revealing a major family secret. You hurt my ego when you said my father bought my position on the Quidditch team. I was raised to believe that, as a Malfoy, I was superior to the general run of humanity. But in recent years I've had self-doubt, because of you.

I couldn't stop thinking about you. It was because you were so annoying, such a know-it-all, and that bloody hair sticking out all over the place, along with your hand always sticking up in the air. I just couldn't look away when you bounced in your seat, so eager to be called on in class, and the way you just wouldn't give up when Snape ignored you. I curled my lips in a sneer when your cheeks would turn pink in... anger? Embarrassment? You just would not let yourself be ignored. I've never before seen such a pushy girl. You just irritated me _so much_.

Because of you, I stepped on Pansy's foot at the Yule Ball, and she got angry with me. It was distracting, the way you looked. Who did you think you were, dressed like that? Dancing in the arms of Viktor Krum, as if you were one of the most beautiful girls in the room. And then that stupid Weasley git made you cry, and where was Krum then? I watched you, though you couldn't see me. I was standing behind a column by myself, and you had me trapped. You were more vulnerable than I had ever seen you before; I could have crushed you, but instead I just waited for you to leave. I didn't get back to Pansy before the ball ended, and she stopped talking to me because of you.

Because of you, I've been derelict in my duty as a member of the Inquisitorial Squad. I know you and your friends are meeting secretly, plotting who knows what. I know that Umbridge would give Slytherin fifty points if I told her. I watch students sneaking about, singly and in pairs, and if they see me, they look at me with fear and dislike. It doesn't bother me that much, except when it's you.


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione grabbed Ron and Harry by the backs of their collars and dragged them into an empty room of the Ministry. "_What_? What is it this time? What in the name of Merlin is so funny about my boyfriend?"

Harry looked at Ron, and they spluttered with hilarity again.

"Every time! Every time I have someone in my life, you two have to make fun of him. Dennis-"

"Because he was a dentist named _Dennis_," Ron interjected.

"And Randy-"

"Because he was named _Randy_," Harry chortled.

"It's a perfectly respectable name in the States! And Nigel-"

"Kept referring to his corgi as his baby," Ron interrupted.

Hermione folded her arms and glared. "So, what's wrong with Chester?"

Ron positively snorted with laughter. "Well, first of all, he's named _Chester_." Hermione picked up a stapler and unhinged it, aiming it at Ron's head. "Um, well, see, he's a tall blond. Like, _really _blond. White blond."

"And?"

"He's kind of pointy all over, and has gray eyes, and- you're really not seeing where this is going, 'Mione?"

Hermione sniffed. "I haven't a clue."

"He looks exactly like Malfoy," Harry blurted out.

"Is that what you think, too, Ron?"

"Yes! Just look at him!"

"I told you two not to drink before the party." Hermione took out her compact and checked her make-up quickly. "Behave yourselves. I don't often find a man who's as intelligent as Chester. Stop giggling at his name! I swear, if you two drive him away-"

"You sure you don't have some sort of secret, unresolved feeling for Malfoy?" Ron chortled.

"Certainly not!" Hermione exited the kitchen in a swirl of red silk.

Ron looked at Harry. "I tell you, she secretly wants Malfoy." Harry shrugged.

...

Ron blinked hard. He'd had a bit of firewhiskey, but not _that _much. He couldn't be seeing double yet. No, that wasn't Hermione and Chester who were standing next to the punchbowl. It was Malfoy, and a woman with long, wild hair, brown eyes, and a heart-shaped face. A middle-aged man approached the woman. "Oh, I didn't know that Hermione had a sister!"

The woman looked puzzled. "_Pardonne moi_?" she asked.

"Oh. Sorry. I must be mistaken." The man hurried away, abashed.

Malfoy was frowning. "Mad old man. Never mind, Yvette."

"Do you see that, Harry?" Ron asked.

"I do."

"What do you think it means?"

Harry thought for a moment, then smiled wickedly. "Do you want to try an experiment?"

...

"Do you want to try an experiment?" Ron said in a mocking falsetto. "Worst bloody idea in history."

Harry's idea had been to toss Malfoy and Hermione in a room together and seal the door shut behind them. He and Ron had no idea exactly what had gone on, but when they opened the door again, Malfoy had been all over Hermione... and Hermione was _loving _it. They'd stopped snogging just long enough to tell Ron to shut the door again.

"We shouldn't have meddled. Chester would have been good enough. Oh, Merlin's toenails, what if they get _married_? He'll be my brother-in-law."

"No, he won't," Harry objected, but Ron wasn't listening.


	7. Chapter 7

"I really don't understand your objection, Lucius," Dumbledore said. "Drama is a very popular extracurricular activity, and it keeps the students too busy to get into trouble."

"But a _Muggle _playwright," Lucius Malfoy sniffed. He stalked down a corridor, his traveling cloak swishing.

The Headmaster trailed behind him. "Shakespeare. One of the finest writers the English language has ever produced, and teenagers do love his plays. This one in particular."

"Which brings us to the casting."

"Your son is a natural. He has a real flair for the dramatic." There was a barely-suppressed hint of amusement to Dumbledore's voice.

"I cannot believe you have him playing opposite that girl. She hit him, you know. It was all quite unprovoked. I wonder if she might not be a bit unstable."

"Miss Granger? The girl is a rock, I assure you. Ah, here we are, the rehearsal space." Dumbledore opened the door. The two of them were just inside, leaning against the balcony prop. Hermione was in a pink velveteen gown and a tall, veiled cap; Draco was clad in a doublet and hose. They sprang apart guiltily, wiping at their lips.

Lucius turn several shades of purple and rounded on Dumbledore. "And I suppose I'm to believe that they were just rehearsing for the play?"

Dumbledore's eyes were _twinkling_. " 'Romeo and Juliet' _is _a love story, as well as a tragedy."

Hermione and Draco exchanged side-long glances. Their cheeks were flushed, and Hermione put a hand over her mouth to hide a smile. Lucius' face puckered when he noticed the two of them making eyes at each other. "That's it," he snapped. "You're going to Durmstrang, Draco. This place is going to the dogs."

Hermione's eyes opened wide, but as soon as his father started ranting at Dumbledore again, Draco shook his head and mouthed, "Mother will say no."

...

It was widely agreed that Hogwart's 1995 production of 'Romeo and Juliet' was most excellent, and that the two stars were very convincing in their roles. Ten years later, Lucius became the proud grandfather of a half-blood baby girl, and he suggested that she be named Juliet.


	8. Chapter 8

This is for the prompt 'chasing pavements,' and I based it loosely on the real-life incident that inspired the Adele song.

...

Hermione had made up her mind.

Two months of self-doubt, and late-night owls sent, and meetings in out-of-the-way Muggle pubs, and lies told to her friends, and lies told to herself; it would end tonight, one way or another. A summer that had started with a disagreement that became an argument that turned into an impassioned grapple in an alley was drawing to its end, and Hermione would be damned if she would spend another season being a Malfoy's occasional plaything.

Some women could do the casual-relationship thing, but Hermione just wasn't built that way. Tonight, she would let Draco know the way she really felt. And he would have to make up his own mind. She wasn't going to give him time to think about it; she wanted his instinctive, unrehearsed reaction, and she wanted it to happen away from the places where they usually went together. This afternoon, she was going to let Draco know that she wanted _more_. She wanted a partner, not just a lover.

Rumor had it that Draco liked to spend his Saturday afternoons at a wizard pub called the Spotted Dragon with his friends... the friends who had no idea that he was carrying on a relationship with Hermione. There the pub was, its sign with the cartoonish, polka-dotted dragon swaying in the summer breeze. _Is he ashamed of me? _Hermione wondered. _Will he be embarrassed when I reveal our relationship to Parkinson and Zabini and all the others? _She rested a moment against the brick facade of the pub, taking deep breaths. Merlin knew, there was a _huge_ potential for disaster.

Hermione pushed through the door and blinked, walking forward cautiously as her eyes adjusted to the dimness of the interior. She heard a familiar low laugh, and turned to a table to her left. It was surrounded by a crowd of Slytherins, and one of them was _her _Slytherin. But he was sitting next to a gorgeous blonde in designer robes. "Oh, Draco, you're so funny!" she cooed.

"You only think that because you've only just met him," Zabini snickered.

"I'd like to get to know him better," the girl said.

"That can be arranged," Draco replied, smirking. "At least, I'll let you get to know certain parts of me."

What happened next was forever after a blur to Hermione. All she knew was that her knuckles hurt, and that Draco was gaping at her and holding his jaw. "Hermione? What are you-"

"What am I doing here? Making an idiot out of myself, obviously! Have a nice life, Malfoy." Hermione spun around and dashed out of the pub, scattering a group of middle aged wizards out on the sidewalk. She sped down Diagon Alley and through the Leaky Cauldron and just kept running, turning down streets at random, until she felt she could run no more. She staggered down under the street to catch a train. She had no destination in mind; she just wanted to be able to sit undisturbed for a very long time.

Her legs started to ache ferociously, and she shifted in her seat, trying to get comfortable . She stared out the window, even though there wasn't much to see. The subway walls moved past monotonously, almost soothing to her jangled nerves. There was a bit of movement; Hermione squinted at it. It looked like... no. That certainly couldn't be.

The train stopped and the doors opened. Over the heads of departing passengers glided a familiar shape: a spectacular eagle owl, its feathers black-brown and tawny-buff. It landed on the seat next to Hermione and held out one leg.

"Oi! You can't have a pet owl on the Tube!" someone complained. Hermione cast a discreet memory charm the man's way.

Draco had sent his owl out into the Muggle world? Hermione opened the leather tube attached to the owl's leg and stared at the rolled parchment with dread. _He must really want me out of his life to take such a chance._ She chewed the inside of her cheek as she unrolled the letter.

"_I thought you didn't feel about me the way I felt about you, but you wouldn't have punched me that hard if you didn't care. Obviously, we have things we need to talk about. Meet me at the Leakey Cauldron at seven tonight, if you're not embarrassed to be seen in public with a Malfoy._"

Hermione touched her mouth as she smiled. Could they both really have been that stupid? Apparently, yes.

The train stopped, and Hermione got off the train with Hercules (his claws piercing the Coach bag she'd found on sale for 90% off). "Where is the Leaky Cauldron from here, Hercules?" Hermione asked. The owl took off, and Hermione followed him. As it turned out, the Leaky Cauldron wasn't very far at all.


End file.
